Once Upon a Time in Venezuela starts with images of the famous Catatumbo lightning silently flashing over Lake Maracaibo. The lightning is an atmospheric phenomenon unique to the region, occurring for 140 to 160 nights per year. It’s what drew filmmaker Anabel Rodriguez Rios to the region, but ultimately became one of the least interesting happenings in an area that serves as a microcosm for the socioeconomic and political crisis in Venezuela.

The once thriving town of Congo Mirador becomes the focus for this observational documentary. It’s a town built upon stilts above Lake Maracaibo, complete with a church, a school, and houses. Everyone gets around on boats, whether they’re commuters, cake sellers, or musicians. The water is the lifeblood of this town. It’s their road that connects everyone, their bath to wash in, and their sewage.

Therefore, it’s not a surprise that sedimentation is brought up first. It’s the most urgent problem for the community, and not the political movements happening in the big cities elsewhere in the country. Sedimentation blocks their transportation paths by making the routes too shallow for boats to move, it blocks the free flow of sewage, and pollutes the towns’ supply of fresh water. Shots of people washing juxtaposed against shots of dead fish, highlight the immediate problems that sedimentation causes. As the film progresses, the director makes sure you can see the physical change in the community. Houses are uprooted and moved on boats, and plants start to take over the once fluid waterways.

It’s not clear where the sedimentation comes from; perhaps it stems from the oil reserves that have started contaminating beaches nearby, or maybe it’s just happening naturally. However, what is clear is that if nothing is done, this town will gradually be consumed by dirt and pollution, thus becoming uninhabitable.

The town community need the help of higher powers to help. However, Once Upon a Time in Venezuela chooses two rivals to center this documentary to represent the division in the community: Mrs. Tamara, a Chavista and town representative, and Natalie, a local teacher. Their rivalry, and the progress it hinders, represent the political division in the country and the slow decline of the town, the sinking state of Venezuela.

  • Mrs. Tamara: the Hugo Chavez fan girl, with a large spacious house, Hugo Chavez dolls, and a farm along the lake. She’s shown boating around the lake to buy votes and relaxing in her hammock.
  • Natalie: a humble teacher and single mum that appears apolitical and lives in a small house. She’s shown hand washing clothes and teaching kids.

The class distinction between the two, and way they talk about each other (Natalie rarely mentions Mrs. Tamara by name) help us choose our allegiances in Congo Mirador and Venezuela. Ultimately, their rivalry distracts us from the decline of the town, just like the presidential rivalry between Maduro and Guaido has provided a distraction from resolving the political and social crises in Venezuela.


If you’re looking for more films from Venezuela like Once Upon a Time in Venezuela, check out La Soledad or It’s All Good for two more films set within the crisis You could also watch Hermano for a Venezuelan film featuring gangs and football. Or, head to our Sundance Film Festival hub, if you’re looking for more reviews from the festival.

Dhalinyaro doesn’t tread the same paths of other African films set in Islamic countries. Instead of focusing on themes of patriarchy, tradition, or sexism that provides the main conflict in films like Papicha, Freedom Fields, Beauty and the Dogs, and Flesh Out, Dhalinyaro focuses on a fiercely independent trio of girls from modern Djibouti. Lula Ali Ismail’s debut feature, feels more like a companion to Celine Sciamma’s Girlhood or the first 20 minutes of Mounia Meddour’s Papicha with the friendship between three girls. It’s an impressive debut feature that is also the first film from Djibouti.

The main conflict of the film sits between the three girls. Their class differences are emphasized in the size and space of their houses, their everyday meals, and methods of transport (private vs. public). However, they’re also immediately distinguishable in the way that they dress. Hibo, a spoiled girl from a wealthy family shows the most skin, whilst Asma, from an underprivileged background is almost always fully covered. Deka, who sits in the middle in terms of class, is moderately dressed, serving as the middle ground between her two friends. Because she takes up the middle ground between Hibo and Asma, she’s the audience’s mediator in the relationship between the three girls.

Their backgrounds affect how they see the future. They all attend the same school, and are all good students, but the differing size of their support networks provide different opportunities to each of them. For Hibo, the most wealthy, her future is already decided. She will study abroad just like her sister, regardless of grades. For Asma, the poorest, her future is also decided. Her family cannot afford to send her abroad so she has no choice but to continue her studies in Djibouti no matter what grades she gets. Deka, our mediator, has the luxury of choice. She can decide to work hard and study abroad as her mother wants, or choose to study at home. In showing how the characters from different classes view their future, Lula Ali Ismail depicts the lack of class mobility in Djibouti. Asma will stay poor and Hibo will stay rich. Only Deka has the opportunity to change.

Dhalinyaro is a high school drama with depth and great character development. Hopefully it won’t be the last film we see from Lula Ali Ismail or Djibouti.

In If Only, Alma and her older brothers are sent to Rome to spend New Years skiing with their dad. Life with him is a world apart from their mother. He’s a disorganised failing scriptwriter with a young partner whilst their mother is a converted orthodox Christian with a strict husband. Instead of skiing, which is just a front to show his ex wife he is a success, he takes them to his friend’s beach house.

By the beach, the kids make friends with some of the locals whilst their father and his younger partner argue, make love, and write. They are your typical dysfunctional family.

Nothing much happens in If Only which feels for the most part like your typical light hearted Italian art house film. As a result, it’s quite hard to describe. However, it succeeds because of the performances of Alma, her dad and his partner.

Alma, the 8 year old daughter, has the benefit of the narrative voice, which she uses to comically picture her dreams of reuniting her mother and father. She’s the naive one – always blissfully unaware of her fathers current relationship with his partner and her and her brothers. Her rose tinted glasses make this a heart warming disfuncional family film rather than a more depressing one.

Her dad plays the stereotypical Italian dad. He’s all over the place and always emotional. One second he’s writing and angry at anyone who disturbs him, the next he’s a loving dad that’s present but will disappear in another second. His partner plays a free loving, spontaneous woman that doesn’t shy away from anything. However she’s always the one in control vs. Alma’s dad.

The other two brothers don’t offer too much, apart from two events which the director uses to help bring the film to a close.

Ultimately, If Only is a nice coming of age Italian art house film featuring a dysfunctional family. It’s a light and enjoyable watch. However, outside of the three characters, there isn’t much to distinguish it from other films in the genre.

Kings of Mulberry Street feels like it could have been your 9 year old self’s favorite film. A film that your parents would happily let you watch when you’ve grown out of Disney animation, or that your teachers might put on at school when it’s raining at break-time. A film that the adults would end up staying to watch it with you, because it’s a fun coming-of-age story that everyone can enjoy, set in an Indian community in South Africa.

The first minute immediately sets the tone for the rest of the film. It’s where we first meet 11 year old Ticky dancing along to a classic Bollywood action film projected on the big screen in front of him. He knows all the words and all the action routines. He wants to be the next Amitabh Bachchan, and judging by his confidence, his dreams don’t look too farfetched. The opening establishes Ticky’s charisma and energy; a playful energy and humor that carries through Kings of Mulberry Street.

In the next scene we meet his future sidekick Harold, a chubby kid spoiled by his single dad. They’re posh Indians, as demonstrated by their knitted jumpers and English accents. Harold’s dad even pop quizzes his son on his spelling on their way to their new house. They arrive in Ticky’s neighborhood and immediately try to stay away from mingling with any of the neighbors. Even though they’ve just moved to the hood, and the dad is now writing obituaries for a little local paper, they still see themselves as better then everyone else. They’re the stereotypical wannabe English upper class, complete with the stiff upper lips, that want to stay away from anyone that might disrupt their peace and quiet (see Elton’s dad in Rocketman or Stevens in Remains for the Day for two examples). However, despite Harold’s dad’s efforts to keep him from mixing with the local rabble, inevitably, Harold and Ticky become best friends.

Ticky is Harold’s antidote to his reserved ‘English’ inspired father. He helps him break from his dad’s mold to become ‘more Indian’. Ticky teaches him Indian slang, feeds him Indian food, and introduces him to his big family. Bu,t most importantly, Ticky introduces him to Bollywood film, whose heroes provide the inspiration for them to take back their bike from the local crime boss. In welcoming Harold into the community, Ticky helps tug Harold away from the bland English culture that his father lives by, and into the colorful Indian culture that helps dispel his loneliness. It also helps to break their class boundaries by connecting them through their shared cultural roots. It’s a heartwarming message at the center of a fun coming of age film.


Head to our Pan African Film Festival Hub for more reviews and short films from the Pan African Film Festival 2020.

Redemption starts with Bruno making his way home after being released from prison. He’s welcomed back by his loving wife and newborn, and gets the keys of his mother’s house from his aunt. It also doesn’t take long for him to find a job in a warehouse nearby. With a house, a job, and a wife and baby, Bruno has everything he needs to be happy. However, things change when the ‘bank’ demands Bruno to pay them $30,000 for a loan his dead mother took out or else they’ll take over his house.

The bank/loan shark that demands money from Bruno is the reason why Bruno regresses to his former life of crime. However, even before they ask for the money, there’s signs that Bruno hasn’t given up his former life. The first indication of this is when he returns to his dead mother’s house on his own and immediately locates his old gun and a roll of U.S. dollars. Instead of throwing the gun away, he returns it to it’s hidden spot when his wife arrives. He knows that if she sees them, she’ll tell him to get rid of them or she’ll leave.

It was also hard to ignore the amount of smoking and drinking in this film. Every other minute, Bruno pauses, lights up a cigarette, and seems to use that break to think. Maybe he’s thinking about the money he could make in the crime world, maybe he’s thinking about moving to South Africa as Mia wants, it’s not clear. What is clear however, is that he smokes a lot. It’s an addiction he hasn’t got rid of. At a stretch, his addiction to smoke and drink are two vices that reveal his weakness for good feelings, and hint that he’s not strong enough to resist the golden allure of returning to crime. Towards the end of the film, Mia even starts smoking, as if it’s a sign that she’s addicted to Bruno and can’t leave him. Like Bruno, she has her chance to leave, but she can’t break her ties to the city.

Bruno’s fate is all but confirmed in the scene when he takes on his first crime job since leaving prison. In it, the camera never moves from the front yard of Bruno’s house as he leaves with his former colleagues and steps into their car. When he is in his front yard, there’s nothing between him and the camera. But once he’s outside his yard, we see him enter his crime boss’ car from behind his yard’s wire fence. Seeing him behind fencing makes it look as if he’s just stepped back into prison. It’s a point of no return for Bruno and his chance at redemption.

However, even though we can blame Bruno for resorting to crime to pay his loans, Redemption makes sure you know that there’s a corrupt system behind his eviction. The big crime boss that Bruno works for appears in a scene paying one of the people working for the bank that demands Bruno repay his mother’s loan. Linking the crime boss to the bank lenders assimilates their actions. Both of them ruthlessly demand money from people who can’t afford them and both of them rob people without sympathy. So if the bank lenders can demand a ridiculous amount of money from Bruno that he didn’t borrow, why shouldn’t he criminally demand a ridiculous amount of money from someone else too.


Head to our Pan African Film Festival Hub for more reviews and short films from the Pan African Film Festival 2020.